A Silent Man

[Utica (N. Y.) Cor. Cincinnati Enqulrer.] Asael P. Liman, whose funeral took place two miles cast of Utica tliis niorning, was a higlily ecccntric cliaracter. Seventy years ago he built a log cabin on one of the hills tliat slepe to the Mohawk river. He was then 1G years of age, had a wife and $30. Some time during the first year of bis wcdded life Inman infQrmed his wife that he intonded to preserve silence for the remainder of his days. This conclusión was the result of an exciting dialogue which Inman overheard between his father and n near relative. Expressing a belief that more harm than good is wrought by speech, he announced his determination to place a permanent padlock upon his lips. This .was in 1810. The following year his first child was born. When that interesting event was approaching a near climax Inman rode several miles in the night to Fort Herkimcr in quest of a physician. He carried slate and pencil, wrote a statement of the situation, and returning with the medicino man received the announcement of his paternal responsibilities in silence. The following year - in 1812- when the yeomenof Central and Northern New York were summoned to the defense of Sackett's Harbor, Inman reported for duty at a post near Adams, Jeft'erson county, riding alone nearly 100 miles through the for ests to the recruiting station. Producing his slate he wrote : " I come to fight, not to talk." The commanding officer declined to give him a place in the ranks, and Inman remained at the post, working without pay for many months. He was noted for his strength. With Ezra Grinnell (who is now living at the age of 87), Inman carried a cannon from the St. Lawrence river to Adams, Jefferson county, a distance of forty miles. The men were four days making the trip. Two days of this was spent ia search of a lost trail. Both were without food during the journey, but Inman uttered no word of comment or complaint. After flve or six years of this remarkable silence other eccentricities were developed. He would never read after sunset ; he refused to drink well water, and for sixty-fïve years slaked his thirst with rainwater that had not touched the ground. His diet was extremely simple. Any article of food susceptible of adulteration was shunned. He always sat by a wood fire, and of late years, when traveling, carried a box or trunk containing a supply of fuel. Inman visited New York city once - some twelve years ago - riding as far as Albany one day and completing the joumey the day followieg. For fifty years he has not been out of doors after 6 o'clock at night. When asked why he remained in doors evenings, he wrote : " Man shouM rest with nature." Some years ago Inman had occasion to visit Buffalo, and as a suit at law was in perspective he went prepared for a siege. Entering one of the leading hotels in Buflalo, the old gentleman wrote : " Best room. No meáis. I burn wood. ïhought you might not have enough, so I brought some along." The big trank, packed with wood, was taken up to his room, and it sufficed to kepp the eccentric warm and cook his simple meáis during his sojourn in Buffalo. Kerosene oil was a pet aversión. His theory was that the glare strained the eyes, while the oil left an unhealthy taint in the atmosphere. He was never known to sit by a coal fire, always i avoided gas, and his son, from whom I gather these details, assures me that, rather than sit in a car heated by a coal fire, the old gentleman preferred to ride twenty-six miles on the platform on a bitter cold day in winter. Inman never used tobáceo in tiny form, never tasted liquor, avoided tea and coffee, and never had personal occasion to seek medical advice. He confidently expected to live to be 100 years old, and but for the accident which was the immediate cause of his death it is highly probable he would have tallied a century. Last spring he sowed thirty J acres with oats, assisting in the fall harvest and performing from choice the full quota of a farrn-laborers work. The oats were stored in a granary connected with the dweiling by a covered passage-way. Mrs. Inman, retvming ! from this granery last Monday, informed I her husbaud that the mice were making j sad havoc with the oats. The old gentleman mounted a high stool to look into the oat-bin, lost his footing and, falling, sustained injuries that speedily resulted in his death. He leaves a carefully-written record of his life during some sixty years of silence. Portions of these diaries are quite interesting, but as a rule he enlarges upon the absurdity of giving utterance to frivolous thoughts. He seems to have regarded speech as a sacred gift, to be indulged in only when it promised benefit to the human race. Here are some of his "axioms :" "Most lives arel productivo of empty noise." "As 1,000,000 is to one, so is sense to sound." "He who talks most feels least." "The fooi talks while the wise man thinks." Inman leaves a smig fortune which his son inherits. His last written message was: "Silence is golden." His oft-penciled admonition to his son was, "Keep your rnouth tkut." In the neighborhood he was known as the dumb man. Ho was quick to read cliaracter, loved a good joke, and insisted that there was so imieh in the world to learn and think about that time spent ia talking was time squandered. Inman's funeral was largely attended, neighbors coming through the snow-drifts for railes to manifest their respoct for the silent man.